Power Shortage
by Dead Composer
Summary: Episode 3 of The Incredible Series. Two Mr. Incredibles, one powerless, the other evil. Who is behind this nightmare?
1. The Two Mr Incredibles

This story is rated PG for violence.

Disclaimer: The Incredibles is (are?) owned by Disney/Pixar.

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_Power Shortage _is a sequel to _Talons of the Bald Eagle_. In the previous story, Mr. Incredible returned home from a victorious battle with the radioactive superwoman Plutonia only to find that his superhuman strength was gone. The winged vigilante known as Bald Eagle called Helen/Elastigirl and warned her that The Solon, a mysterious criminal mastermind, sapped Bob's powers using the Philosopher's Stone, a weapon that can transmute matter. Only Helen knows that Bald Eagle is really Edgar Best, estranged son of Lucius Best, a.k.a. Frozone.

----

Once he had recovered sufficiently from his nausea, Bob sneaked out of the bedroom and into the garage, where Helen kept her weight set. (Her difficulty in lifting something as insignificant as a manhole cover had inspired her to work out and build muscle.) He added weights to the bar until it reached five hundred pounds, then lay on his back and attempted to lift. He gasped and strained, but couldn't budge the load even by an inch.

"This isn't really happening," he muttered to himself while removing some of the discs. "I can bench-press railroad engines, for crying out loud."

The weight was down to three hundred pounds, and he managed with great effort to raise it above his chest. He slowly lowered it, but found that his muscles were too fatigued to lift the burden a second time.

He lowered the weight to one hundred and sixty, and started to perform some reps. He had little difficulty, but neither would any normal man of the same size and musculature.

"All right," he thought, "maybe the radiation took away my strength temporarily. But strength isn't everything."

Setting down the weight, he crept from the garage into the kitchen. His wife Helen, who was watering the zinnias in the front lawn, didn't notice his movements.

Pulling the meat cleaver from the wooden knife holder, he rested its blade against the tip of his right index finger. Without bothering to brace himself for the pain, he made a quick slicing motion. "Owww!" he winced. Blood trickled from the incision in his once-bulletproof skin.

"This is wrong on so many levels," grumbled the not-so-incredible Bob as he wrapped a bandage around his bleeding fingertip. Other than deliberately breaking a bone, he could think of no additional way to verify that his powers had completely left him.

He lay down on his bed again, considering the prospect of life as a non-super. The thought of the world losing one of its greatest champions appalled him, but not as much as the complications that would arise within the family. As the only member without powers, he would have to stand and watch as they fought for justice.

He wasn't sure how long he had been napping before Helen woke him. "Honey, Dr. Fitz is here."

Bob rubbed his eyes and looked around. His wife and three children surrounded him, expressions of concern on their faces. He also saw a short, slender man in a cardigan sweater, with a black leather medical bag strapped over his shoulder. The man wore a bushy moustache and a mere wisp of curly red hair on his head, and he spoke with a heavy German accent.

"It has been a long time, Herr Incredible."

With an annoyed groan suggesting that he hated being examined by doctors, Bob sat up and swiveled around on the bed. Dr. Fitz immediately zipped open his bag, and drew out a handheld device with a computer display. "Nice to see you too, Theo," Bob said glibly as the doctor waved the device back and forth in front of his chest.

"What did you do to your finger?" Helen asked him.

"Cut myself shaving," he lied.

After waving the medical device several more times, Dr. Fitz lunged forward and jabbed Bob's arm with the probes attached to the end of the gadget. The man of muscle cried out in pain as tiny, diamond-tipped drills pierced his flesh and quickly retracted. The doctor pulled his device away, and Bob tenderly placed his hand over the miniscule holes in his skin.

"What was that for?" he inquired peevishly.

"Muscle biopsy," Dr. Fitz replied. "I only did zis"--he waved the medical gadget in front of Bob a few times--"to get you to relax."

Bob, Helen, Dash, and Violet waited quietly and anxiously as the doctor examined the readout on the computer screen. Jack-Jack gurgled oblivously.

"Hmm...decreased myostatin levels...lower muscle fiber density..." Dr. Fitz lowered his device and stared at Bob solemnly. "I must perform furzer tests, but it appears zat you are perfectly healty for a man vit no super powers."

Helen gasped. Violet's eyes widened.

"No super powers?" Dash marveled. "We'll have to go on welfare!"

"Is it contagious?" asked Violet uneasily.

"How could this have happened?" Helen demanded.

"Unknown," answered Fitz. "It is highly unlikely, but not impossible, zat radiation took his powers avay in ze same manner zat it gave Plutonia her powers."

"What if we all lose our powers?" Violet mused hopefully. "Then we'll be a normal, everyday family."

"A normal, everyday, _boring_ family," Dash retorted.

"Quiet, children," Helen interrupted. "Everything will be fine. Dr. Fitz will find a way to bring back your father's powers."

"Zere are more possibilities," the doctor continued. "Perhaps an evil scientist created a machine to drain ze powers from superheroes. Destroy ze machine, and Herr Incredible's powers vill automatically return."

"Wait," said Helen as Jack-Jack squirmed in her arms. "What if destroying the machine eliminates all hope of Bob getting his powers back?"

"Ridiculous," Dr. Fitz scoffed. "All evil inventions have a _deus ex machina _circuit built in."

Helen turned to Violet and Dash, and gave them a stern look. "No one is to know of this," she ordered. "Especially not the Hamiltons. They may be waiting for a chance like this to destroy us."

"Mom, Chris does _not_ want to destroy us," Violet protested.

"That's enough, Vi," Helen snapped. Turning back to Dr. Fitz, she asked, "What other theories do you have?"

"Zere is one udder," replied the doctor as he replaced the electronic device in his bag. "Ze man you see before you may not be your husband."

Bob was angered by his suspicion. "That's outrageous!"

"I think I can tell an impostor from my husband," Helen assured the doctor.

The telephone rang. "I'll get that," she offered, stretching her arm through the bedroom door and pulling it back with the receiver in her hand. "Hello?"

"This is Chief Mason," came a deep, panicked voice. "Are you aware that Mr. Incredible is trashing downtown Metroville?"

Helen nearly dropped the phone.

----

To be continued! Please review!


	2. Guess Who's Coming to Dinner?

"You're not going to believe this," Helen announced to Bob, Dash, Violet, and Dr. Fitz. "Someone with Mr. Incredible's appearance and powers is wreaking havoc downtown."

"I don't believe it," said Violet in astonishment.

"I can tell you now, it's not me," said Bob.

"A clone, perhaps," the doctor theorized. "Or a robot doppelganger. Or a long-lost tvin brudder."

"Get your suits, kids," Helen commanded. "Whoever he is, we're taking him down."

"I'm coming too," said Bob, leaping to his feet.

"You have no powers," said Helen as Dash and Violet raced past her toward their bedrooms. "You'd only get in the way."

Saddened, Bob sat down and put his boulder-like chin in his hands.

"I didn't mean that, honey," said Helen apologetically. "But you still can't come." She transferred the baby into his hands. "You can watch Jack-Jack."

Bob's day was getting worse by the minute. He had lost his powers, his family was going crime-fighting without him, and to top it off, he was now saddled with the most unmasculine of chores, babysitting.

Wasting no time, Helen retrieved her super suit from the top dresser drawer, and went into the bathroom to put it on underneath her dress. Violet and Dash, also wearing costumes under their street clothes, met her as she emerged.

"Girls sure take a long time to get dressed," Dash complained.

"We don't have super speed like you do," said Helen with a patronizing smile.

"Mom, I think we should bring Chris Hamilton along," suggested Violet. "She can use her Transfixer powers on the phony Mr. Incredible."

"Not a chance," said Helen as she double-checked that her mask was stowed in her handbag, along with Dash's and Violet's.

"She could save us a lot of trouble," Violet insisted.

"The Hamiltons are supervillains," said Helen sharply. "We do not fight alongside supervillains."

As she led Dash and Violet to the station wagon, Dash proposed a scenario. "What if space aliens attack Earth, and all the superheroes in the world can't beat them? Would they team up with the supervillains?"

"That sort of thing only happens in comic books, to sell more issues," his mother replied.

As they drove away toward the center of town, Bob held the giggling Jack-Jack at arm's length. Suddenly he sensed a rank smell from the infant's diaper.

"Ugh..." He turned to Dr. Fitz, who was curiously rifling through Helen's dresses in the closet. "Uh, Theo? Since you're a doctor, maybe you could..."

"Auf Wiedersehen," the doctor blurted out, and he rushed from the house to his parked Lexus.

As Bob struggled to reconcile with his maternal side, Helen parked the station wagon in a side street and led Dash and Violet into an alley, where they pulled off their everyday clothes and masked themselves. Helen wrapped her arms around the two children, twisted her legs into springs, and bounced through one city block after another.

"Whee!" exclaimed Dash as the wind roared through his hair.

"I think I'm getting sick," groused Violet, looking down at the street dozens of yards below her.

Helen followed the trail of ruined buildings to a scene of chaos. A tall, musclebound man who resembled Mr. Incredible in every way, including the suit, was terrorizing citizens at the corner of Fifth and Main. While the helpless townspeople fled, the evil duplicate picked up a yellow Corvette and prepared to fling it in the direction of an old woman who walked with a cane. It was obvious to Helen that the oldster couldn't get out of the way in time.

"Dash! Help her!" she exclaimed, dropping her son onto the sidewalk.

"I'm a superhero, not a Boy Scout," the boy retorted.

"Go!" Helen ordered him. "Run!"

Dash charged forward at roughly 200 mph, just as the Mr. Incredible clone hurled the car at about the same speed. The fast-running boy realized that he wouldn't reach the woman in time...

...but he didn't have to, as a bird-faced man with a ten-foot wingspan swooped down and carried her from the spot, only a split second before the flying automobile crashed through the brick wall of the convention center.

Once Bald Eagle had moved the old woman a safe distance away, he confronted Elastigirl and her costumed children. "You'd better leave him to me, Mrs. P," he warned. "The Solon set this all up so he could take your powers. He can't take mine, since I don't have any."

"If you know so much," said Elastigirl sarcastically, "maybe you can tell me where that clone of my husband came from."

"It's like I said before," Bald Eagle replied. "The Philosopher's Stone can transmute matter in any way imaginable. That includes changing one person to look like another."

"Mom," Dash chimed in, "how does he know who you are?"

"Never mind," Helen responded, then turned to the winged hero again. "Edgar, we're going to help you whether you like it or not."

"Uh, Mrs. P," Bald Eagle cautioned her, "please don't use the E-word in front of the kids."

"Edgar," Violet mused. She recalled the fun times--fishing trips, bowling, video games--she had enjoyed with the son of Lucius and Honey, who had often seemed like a big brother to her. There could be no mistake--the man behind the beak was him.

"You're a superhero," she marveled. "That's so cool. What can you do besides fly?"

"I can do this," boasted Bald Eagle, who then raised a gloved hand and fired an electrical bolt at the approaching Mr. Incredible clone. The shock hurled the impostor onto his back and stunned him monentarily, but he was angrier than ever when he regained his footing.

"Get ready to fight, kids," Helen instructed.

"This is weird," Violet remarked. "I've never had to fight my own dad before."

"He's not your..." Elastigirl began to say, when the evil clone thrust his hands into the asphalt and yanked up the surface of the street underneath the four heroes.

The sudden tremor caused them to lose balance. Bald Eagle allowed his cybernetic wings to carry him aloft, Dash somersaulted a few times and sped away, Violet rolled to safety inside a force bubble, and Elastigirl stretched her body in an arc, wrapping around and binding the man who resembled her husband.

"I don't care how good-looking you are," she said sternly. "I won't stand by while you wreck my city."

"Then you will die!" bellowed the duplicate, straining mightily against the rubbery coils of Elastigirl's body.

"Oh, puh-leeze," she joked. "The real Mr. Incredible has much better dialogue than that."

Although she tried to keep a sense of humor, she felt as if her every cell was being taxed to the bursting point. If this menace were truly as strong as her husband, she would give out long before he did. She gritted her teeth and breathed heavily. Sweat poured down her temples.

She could hardly remember the exact moment when her body went limp and the evil clone threw her off like a strand of spaghetti. Violet and Dash gasped as she landed in a twisted heap on the street, and began to slowly ooze into human shape.

"Invisible Force!" cried Violet, blinking out of sight. A shimmering field appeared around the clone, who glanced around in confusion before trying to push his way through the barrier. As Violet concentrated with all her mental might, and the evil duplicate hammered against her shield with his fists, Bald Eagle soared in circles above the melee, as if probing the area for suspicious individuals.

Mere seconds later, Violet abruptly became visible and collapsed to her knees, exhausted. The field around the Mr. Incredible clone faded, and he trudged toward the girl with murder in his eyes. Only Dash stood in his way.

"Sonic Boom!" he shouted. By the time the battle cry left his mouth, he had already punched the advancing fiend in the leg about seventy times--but in vain. The evil duplicate kept closing the distance between himself and the fallen Violet, seeming to regard Dash as an annoying gnat. The boy flailed desperately, but despite his efforts, the hulking clone raised a ham-sized fist and launched it downward...

...just as Violet vanished, snatched away by the long arm of the revived Elastigirl.

Dash fled to his mother's side. The three Incredibles assumed combat poses, doing their best to conceal their unbelievable fatigue. Not one of them knew how to topple the villain, who had easily withstood their full-strength onslaught.

"He's as strong as Dad," Dash observed. "He's, like, Mr. Incred-Evil."

"Mom, I told you we should've gotten Chris to help us," Violet whined.

As the newly dubbed Mr. Incred-Evil snarled and ripped a traffic signal pole out of the ground, Elastigirl came to realize that she was running out of options.

"Dash, run to the Hamiltons and tell them we need help," she ordered. "Violet, disappear. I'll keep him busy until..."

"Wait!" called a voice that Helen had hoped never to hear again.

Dash stopped in mid-stride. All eyes, including the clone's, turned toward the newcomer, a tall, lanky, blond woman with an oval-shaped face. Her silver-gray spandex costume complimented her Rubenesque figure. Over her forehead and gem-like eyes she wore a pink Mardi Gras mask with a sapphire in the center.

The woman's disproportionately large hips seemed to wobble back and forth as she strolled toward the heroes, smiling warmly. "Stand aside," she instructed them. "He's too much for you...and so am I."

"Mirage," growled Helen with a malicious glare.

"Indeed," said the slinky blonde. "You're about to learn how I got that name, as well as why I don't use my powers very often. Now stand back."

Elastigirl only folded her arms and scowled. She wasn't moving, and neither were her children.

Impatient with the introduction, Mr. Incred-Evil started to swing the signal pole about, breaking windows and knocking over other poles in the process. Mirage peered at the hulking villain, who suddenly became motionless and dropped the pole with a mighty thud.

Helen, Dash, and Violet couldn't believe what happened next. To Helen, it appeared that zombies of her husband were crawling out of the cracks in the asphalt and staggering toward her. To Dash, it seemed that all the girls in his fifth-grade class were frantically pawing him, trying to kiss him, green acid dripping from their mouths. Violet's vision was even more disturbing--her skin was dissolving and falling from her arms, exposing blood and tissue.

All three of them screamed in terror, and the nightmares suddenly ended. The familiar, though damaged, environs of downtown Metroville reappeared around them. Their hearts pounded like woodpeckers. They struggled for breath. Mirage stood before them, still clad in her spandex suit and mask, staring at them condescendingly. In the street behind her Mr. Incred-Evil lay in a fetal position, his body trembling, his face blank as if semi-catatonic from fear.

"Wh-what was that?" Elastigirl choked out.

"I did warn you," said Mirage with a shrug. "With my powers of sensory illusion, I can make people experience intense pleasure--or intense horror."

Dash, clutching his stomach, sped away to an alley. Helen and Violet heard retching sounds in the distance, and the boy reappeared, wiping his mouth on his sleeve.

"That was like...Halloween on steroids," remarked the dazed Violet.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that," Mirage went on. "I have a hard time focusing my powers on one person. Usually everyone around me is affected to one degree or another." She glanced over at the still-prostrate Mr. Incred-Evil. "You're lucky you didn't end up like him."

"Whose side are you on?" Elastigirl demanded to know.

"Side?" Mirage chuckled. "I'm on no one's side but my own. But when I saw your hubby tearing down all that magnificent architecture..."

"He's not my hubby," Helen interrupted.

"Really?" said Mirage eagerly. "He divorced you? About time, I say."

As the incensed Elastigirl wrapped her plastic fingers around Mirage's throat, several police officers arrived and placed restraints of reinforced steel around the wrists and ankles of the whimpering Mr. Incred-Evil. Many of the townspeople, seeing that the menace had been neutralized, started to throng Mirage and the three Incredibles. Bald Eagle, never one to seek publicity, watched events unfold from a building ledge.

"I can't believe Mr. Incredible would turn against us like that," marveled a middle-aged man.

"I don't know what you did to him," a woman commended Mirage, "but it was impressive."

"What are your plans, now that your husband has turned to evil?" a curious man inquired of Elastigirl.

"I'm Calvin Turnmire, billionaire philanthropist," said a tall, bearded old man wearing a top hat and a Victorian suit. "It always makes me happy to see a new superhero hit the streets. Can I take a group picture of you?"

As the old man reached into his jacket and drew out an object, Bald Eagle sprang into action. Plunging toward the crowd below, he tackled the man just as he was raising a digital camera to his eye. The people in the crowd screamed and dispersed.

With one hand Bald Eagle pressed the unresisting old man against the asphalt, and with the other he snatched up the camera, which the man had dropped. While the masked vigilante probed the camera for signs of hidden weapons, a flexible arm coiled around his wings and torso, and lifted him above the ground. He lost his grip on the camera, revolved in midair, and found himself face to face with an offended Elastigirl.

"I...told you...to leave...Mr. Turnmire...alone," she snarled.

The surrounding citizens witnessed with alarm as the old man grabbed his chest and wheezed. "Help me...my heart..."

Bald Eagle was about to open his mouth and urge his captor to open the camera and look inside, when the magnitude of The Solon's treachery dawned upon him.

"Don't let him go, Elastigirl," called a woman who had knelt down with several others to aid the fallen man. "He may wear a costume, but he's no hero."

A number of police officers joined the crowd as Elastigirl plucked off Bald Eagle's mask and disarmed him of his gloves and belt. "This is what cousin Edgar has been reduced to, kids," she told Violet and Dash. "Attacking old men in the street." Her children gaped in disbelief.

Astonished and curious, Mirage bent over to pick up the camera. The case had cracked open, so she peeked inside. Wires, circuit boards, lenses, a battery compartment--nothing unusual.

Elastigirl approached the blonde after she had handed Bald Eagle and his costume components over to police custody. "I'll cut you some slack, since you helped us before," she offered. "I know some people who can help you control your powers better. Join us for dinner tomorrow, and we'll talk."

"I'd love to," said Mirage cheerfully.

Grabbing her mother's hand, Violet pulled her aside and gave her a serious look. "You can't invite her to dinner. She'll learn our secret identities."

"She already knows," Helen told her. "I don't like this either, Vi. But with Mr. Incredible out of action, the forces of good need all the help they can find."

----

A/N: Okay, I brought Mirage into the story. Now will you write some reviews?


	3. Getting Crowded

The police hauled the taciturn Bald Eagle to the local station, Calvin Turnmire departed the scene under his own power after promising to see a doctor, Mirage vanished to parts unknown, and Helen drove Violet and Dash back to their house. They entered to find Bob with an apron over his shirt, trying to feed the restless Jack-Jack while watching the TV news.

"He coughed up something while you were gone," Bob reported to his wife. "It's still crawling around in the bathroom sink. I would've killed it, but I think it may be sentient."

As Helen relieved him of Jack-Jack's care, the doorbell rang. "Don't answer that," she ordered. "Bob, go into the bedroom and close the door."

"Why?" her husband wondered.

"Because there are certain people who shouldn't know the truth," Helen replied.

Bowing his head in resignation, Bob removed the apron and concealed himself inside the bedroom. Violet, meanwhile, looked through the peephole in the door. "It's the Hamiltons," she told her mother.

"Let them in," Helen instructed her, "but don't tell them anything. That goes for you too, Dash."

Violet opened the door, allowing Ike and Gloria Hamilton to enter with their daughter, Chris. "Hey, Vi," said the girl, who as usual was concealing half of her face with her hair.

"Hi, Chris," Violet responded, and the two began to chat.

Gloria wore an expression of deep concern which Helen doubted was genuine. "We watched the battle on TV," said the neighbor woman. "When you Incredibles have family squabbles, you don't kid around. What's gotten into Robert?"

Helen laid Jack-Jack on the floor next to Dash, folded her arms, and stared haughtily. "I don't see how that's any of your business."

"Normally we wouldn't dream of prying into your affairs," Gloria continued. "But this affects us as well as you. If you and Robert have another fight like the last one, you could wipe out the whole neighborhood."

"You already know more about us than you should," said Helen sharply. "I'm afraid I must ask you to leave now."

"All right, then," Ike interjected, his tone ominous. "We'll go visit your husband in prison, and listen to his side of the story."

Bob pressed his ear against the bedroom door, listening to the tense exchange. How he longed to explain his situation to the Hamiltons, and disabuse their minds--but he dared not. A rampaging, destructive Mr. Incredible would instill more fear in the hearts of villains than a powerless Mr. Incredible who could threaten no one.

"Chris, I think it's best if you and your parents don't get involved in this," Violet urged her friend.

"That's what I tried to tell them," said Chris quietly, "but they wouldn't listen to me."

Neither would they listen to Helen. "Cut the 'good neighbors' crap," she chided them. "You're afraid Bob will spill his guts about your true identities. Or worse, you want to take advantage of the division in our family, to destroy us."

"We don't want to destroy you," Ike insisted. "In fact, we were about to come to your aid when that woman with the pink mask showed up."

As Helen tried to persuade the stubborn Hamiltons to leave, the doorbell rang again. "Excuse me," said Violet to Chris, and she took another peek through the door. "It's Lucius and Honey," she announced with relief.

"Oh, how delightful," said Helen innocently. "Our friends Lucius and Honey have come to visit us." She flashed a devious grin at the Hamiltons. "I guess you'll have to go now."

"Lucius and Honey?" Ike repeated. "Are they supers as well?"

"No, just super friends," Helen answered. "Let them in, Vi."

A moment later Lucius and Honey Best were in the house, exchanging suspicious looks with the Hamiltons.

Helen performed some nervous introductions. "Lucius, Honey, these are the Hamiltons, our neighbors."

"Pleased to meet you," said Honey, shaking hands with Gloria.

"If you don't mind," said Lucius, "we have something very important to discuss with Helen."

"So do we," Ike said calmly, "and we were here first."

While the Bests and the Hamiltons argued over who would hold audience with Helen, the doorbell rang yet again. Violet checked the peephole. "Omigosh," she blurted out, "it's Mirage."

"What?" said Helen with surprise. "Let her in."

The blond woman, now maskless and wearing a gray satin dress, slipped past the door as Violet opened it. "The dinner invitation is for tomorrow evening," Helen reminded her.

"But I'm hungry now," said Mirage in a sultry tone.

Ike Hamilton leaned over to his wife's ear and whispered, "Another super."

The Hamiltons still refused to leave, and the silence became excruciating, as no one dared speak a meaningful word for fear of being exposed as a hero or villain. As impossible as it seemed, the doorbell rang again. "It's Maggie," Violet told her mother.

She opened the door, and in walked a middle-aged, somewhat rotund Hispanic woman wearing a floral bandanna, hoop earrings, and a variety of charm bracelets. "Welcome, Maggie," Helen greeted her.

"It's like a super convention," Ike quietly remarked to his wife.

"It's certainly getting crowded in here," said Helen to the Hamiltons. "But there's plenty of room in your house, which is where you should be headed right now."

"Perhaps you're right," Gloria responded. "I am starting to feel rather uncomfortable."

As she and her husband were making up their minds to depart, the new woman, Maggie, pressed her fingers against her temples and seemed to fall into a trance. Waving her hands as if groping in darkness, she shuffled toward the bedroom door and pulled it open before Helen could stop her. There, on the edge of the bed, sat the wide-eyed Robert Parr.

"He is here," intoned Maggie in a deep-throated voice.

"Who's here?" asked Lucius, and everyone in the house suddenly mobbed Helen and Maggie at the doorway. Bob's first impulse was to hide himself in the closet, but it was far too late.

"Shouldn't he be in prison?" Honey asked no one in particular.

"If you're here," Mirage inquired of Bob, "then who did I just defeat?"

"I demand to know what's going on," said Mr. Hamilton firmly.

"Nice going, Maggie," Helen scolded her garishly robed friend. "Or should I say, Magicadabra."

"Lo siento mucho," Maggie apologized. "Sometimes I control my powers, and sometimes they control me."

"I hope you can control some memory charms," said Helen. "The Hamiltons can't be trusted with what they've just seen."

"And what have we just seen?" Gloria wanted to know.

Bob stood up and gestured for the crowd to disperse so he could walk through. "I've lost my powers," he explained.

"Lost your powers?" said Mirage with alarm. "That's awful!"

"Then that wasn't you wrecking those buildings," Chris realized. "It was someone who looked like you, and had your powers."

"We call him Mr. Incred-Evil," Dash related.

"I thought you had been hypnotized," Maggie told Bob.

"I was afraid I'd have to fight you," Lucius added.

Mr. Hamilton motioned for his wife and daughter to accompany him. "We've had a lovely time, but we really need to go."

"You're not going anywhere," Helen snapped. "Maggie, hypnotize them."

While the Hispanic woman raised her arms and started to mutter, Ike and Gloria both nodded at Chris, who closed her eyes, brushed aside her hair, and underwent a quick and startling transformation. Helen and Violet looked away in time, but not so Honey, Mirage, and Maggie, who became entranced by the beautiful face of a blond boy who wore a girl's blouse and jeans several sizes too small for him.

"Unless you want to turn your house into a battlefield," said Mrs. Hamilton menacingly, "you'll let us go in peace."

"All right," said Helen in a defeated tone. "You can go."

"I'm sorry, Vi," said the blond boy as he turned to leave.

Once the Hamiltons had departed, the Parrs and their astonished guests discussed the things they had seen and learned.

"This day is getting weirder and weirder," Lucius remarked. "First a clone of Bob trashes Metroville, then I find out my kid's a superhero, and now I see a girl turn into a guy."

"Edgar's not much of a hero," said Helen. "He attacked Calvin Turnmire, the billionaire philanthropist, after I had specifically told him to leave the man alone."

"He wouldn't have done that without a good reason," said Honey.

"He thinks Turnmire is really a criminal overlord called The Solon," Helen related.

Upon hearing the name, Maggie clutched her head and collapsed to her knees. "Evil!" she wailed, her body quivering. "I sense great evil!"

"The Hamiltons are gone, Maggie," Helen pointed out.

The robed woman dropped her hands, and her eyes glazed over. "The Solon," she droned. "He possesses a weapon of unlimited power. He must be stopped."

Helen bent over and grasped Maggie by the shoulders, steadying her. "Tell us more," she urged. "What else do you know about The Solon?"

"That's all I've got," Maggie answered, struggling to her feet. "I'm sorry it's so vague, but the carpeting in your house is disrupting the flow of cosmic energy."

"Maggie's right more than half the time," said Lucius. "Maybe Edgar's on to something."

"We'll deal with The Solon later," said Helen decisively. "At the moment, let's concentrate on bringing back Bob's powers. Maggie?"

"His body has been completely changed," said the Hispanic woman as she scanned Bob from head to toe. "To restore his powers, I must first locate someone with the same powers, to use as a pattern."

"Like Mr. Incred-Evil," Dash suggested.

"Yes," Maggie agreed. "But even then, the spell is very difficult, and the slightest mistake could cripple or kill him."

"There must be another way," said Mirage with concern.

"The Permutare spell is much safer," said Maggie. "I can use it to switch the bodies of Bob and his clone."

"Wait a minute," Bob interjected. "What if my clone isn't exactly like me? What if he's...different...in some way?"

"That is a chance we must take," Maggie replied.

----

Stay tuned! More to come!


	4. The Unstoppables

Stripped of his winged costume, Bald Eagle spent the night in jail for having assaulted Calvin Turnmire, billionaire philanthropist. The police looked for an excuse to detain him longer due to the alleged fact that he was a super, but could find none, so he was released on Tuesday morning. Upon returning to his apartment, he immediately phoned Helen Parr.

"How did my parents take the news?" he asked.

"They seem okay with it," Helen answered. "They're happy to know that you're doing something good with your life."

"I want to see them again," said Edgar.

"You'll get your chance tonight," Helen told him. "We're all gathering at Mirage's place to make plans for getting Bob's powers back and defeating The Solon."

"Great! I'll be there."

Laying down the receiver, Edgar Best looked around at the spartan walls of his gadget-filled apartment. He had been told of rich playboys and playgirls who indulged in crimefighting because they had the time and resources to do so. No such luxuries availed themselves to him. A mere college student, he had to balance homework, fighting evil, and a few hours of sleep every night. His costume was in police possession, and it would take him weeks to either get it back through legal means, or save up enough money to build a new one. Yet a light at the end of the tunnel had appeared, as "legitimate" superheroes were starting to recognize the immense threat posed by The Solon and his ilk. Would the Bald Eagle soon be able to hang up his cowl?

----

Violet's pork chop lay untouched on her plate. She idly grasped a fork between her thumb and forefinger, and gazed across the cafeteria at a boy who sat alone at a table. The boy was short and rather pudgy, and freckles dotted his cheeky face. Oblivious to Violet's attention, he eagerly wolfed down a slice of coconut cream pie. His name was Nigel Kirk.

He wasn't a stereotypical geek, as he didn't wear glasses and wasn't exceptionally bright. Perhaps, Violet thought, she could work with the boy, bring out his potential, help him to gain more confidence. But with her luck, that would lead Nigel to become interested in other girls. Girls that weren't her.

Violet was seated across from Chris Hamilton at a table occupied by popular girls. She knew they were popular because they traveled in packs, talked only about boyfriends and fashion, and said "like" after every few words. They spoke, but didn't really communicate.

This particular lunch hour was unusual, as Chris was dolefully picking at her food as well. Some of the girls noticed her altered behavior and became concerned. One of their number was acting differently from the group, so they could only conclude that she was sick, or mentally deranged, or possessed by space aliens.

"Something wrong, Chris?" asked Brittany.

"Mm-hmm," the blond girl grunted.

"She's unhappy because she doesn't have a boyfriend," Heather theorized.

"She'd have lots of boyfriends if she would just uncover her face," Jessica added.

"I don't like boys," Chris muttered.

The other girls, except for Violet, exchanged confused glances. Two of them picked up their lunch trays and walked off to other tables.

Brittany remained behind to provide some token support. "I understand, Chris. If that's the lifestyle you want, I say, go for it."

Suddenly infuriated, Chris pushed her tray forward and rose abruptly to her feet. "Violet, come with me," she ordered.

Intrigued by the blond girl's display of emotion, Violet followed her out of the cafeteria and through the school exit. Chris continued her determined march until she reached the hedges at the end of the campus.

"What is it?" Violet asked. Her friend turned around, revealing that she was on the brink of tears.

"I can't live like this anymore," Chris complained sorrowfully. "I hate what my parents are doing to me. I have to get away from them."

Violet opened her mouth to offer words of comfort, but was cut off by the blond girl's ongoing tirade.

"They're bad people, Vi. Remember when they said they wanted to help you fight the evil Mr. Incredible? That was a lie. We watched it on TV, and I tried to convince them that we should help, but they didn't care. My dad even said, 'Maybe they'll kill each other off.'"

"Those scumbags," Violet grumbled.

Chris, her eyes full of longing, pressed her hands against Violet's shoulders. "I know what I want to be now," she said earnestly.

Violet braced herself for the frightening words she expected to hear--"Your boyfriend."

Instead Chris said, "I want to be a superhero." Seeing that her declaration had relaxed Violet, she went on, "My parents worked for The Solon until they enrolled in the supervillain relocation program. If he ever finds them, he'll kill them. If I help you fight him, I'll have to leave them forever. That's what I'm going to do."

Many expressions of encouragement raced through Violet's mind, all of them too trite for the occasion.

"I'll need a place to stay," Chris told her. "Will you and the other superheroes help me?"

"Yes, we will," replied Violet with a gratified smile. "I promise."

With that, she threw her arms around her friend's neck and held her tightly.

Brittany, who had followed out of curiosity, spied their embrace from behind a tree. "Chris and Violet," she marveled. "Wait till the girls hear this."

----

Bob's first day at work without his powers had gone smoothly--no monsters or villains had attacked the city center. As he drove his economy car through bumper-to-bumper traffic, three things dominated his thoughts--the approaching meeting of heroes at Mirage's hideout, the shadowy new menace they faced, and the prospect of being magically transferred into a powerful body that resembled his own, but might hide significant differences.

He arrived at home to discover that his wife and three children were awaiting him in an orderly fashion, standing at attention, their super suits concealed under their regular clothes. He smiled proudly. "Showtime," he declared.

"Get in the car, kids," commanded Helen, who was cradling Jack-Jack. "We're going to aunt Mirage's for dinner."

"Yay!" Dash exclaimed.

"We have to wait for Chris," said Violet urgently.

"Chris isn't coming," Helen insisted.

The girl in question had packed two suitcases with all of her clothes and essential belongings. Resting them on the living room floor in front of her seated parents, she announced solemnly, "Mom, Dad...I'm leaving."

"Leaving?" responded Mrs. Hamilton with alarm. "For where?"

"I'm going to help the Incredibles fight The Solon," said Chris with determination. "I may never see you again."

Ike and Gloria exchanged pained looks, then rose and confronted their daughter.

"Please don't do this," Gloria begged. "We love you."

"You could be killed," Ike added. "We won't be able to help you."

"I've made up my mind," said Chris, bending down to pick up her luggage. "I'm through hiding. I'm through pretending. I want to be free."

"We won't try to stop you," said her mother with barely concealed anguish. "But remember, once you walk out that door, you can never come back."

Seeing that their daughter showed no sign of changing her course, Ike and Gloria pulled her into a final group hug. All three shed tears freely.

"Goodbye, Mom," Chris gushed. "Goodbye, Dad. I love you."

The embrace seemed to last for an eternity. Tearing herself away from her parents, Chris marched through the front door with her suitcases. The door closed behind her with a quiet click that echoed through her tormented mind, but she didn't look back.

Inside the house, Ike and Gloria Hamilton hugged and wept, struggling to be brave in the face of their daughter's departure.

"We knew this day had to come," Ike remarked sadly.

"I'll call Rick," Gloria offered. "There's nothing left for us here."

Violet was startled by the look of devastation on Chris' half-hidden face as she climbed into the station wagon with the Parr family.

"You did the right thing," said the raven-haired girl, wrapping an arm around her friend's shoulders. "Now you're one of us. Now you're a superhero."

----

Mirage's lair turned out to be a large house by the intersection of two rural roads miles from the city. It was the sort of home a successful farmer or sheep rancher might inhabit, with several satellite dishes jutting out of the front lawn. The Parrs, accompanied by Chris Hamilton, pulled into the gravel driveway to find several other cars present. They recognized two of the vehicles--the old Buick owned by Lucius Best, a.k.a. Frozone, and the natural gas-powered sedan driven by Magdalena "Maggie" Guerrero, a.k.a. Magicadabra.

The walls of the spacious domicile were adorned with movie posters, evidence that Mirage had once taken a shot at a Hollywood career. The living room, actually a conference room, featured suede chairs surrounding a long glass table. A TV monitor covered the entire length of one wall, displaying informational broadcasts from various sources. There was also an indoor swimming pool and hot tub, but the gathered heroes showed no interest in them.

Mirage stood at the head of the table, welcoming the Parr family as well as Chris, the Bests (including Edgar), and Maggie. All were aware of the secret identities of the others, so no one was in costume.

"I'd like to thank you all for trusting me enough to visit my humble abode," Mirage began. "It's true that I collaborated with Syndrome during the recent Omnidroid crisis, and I deeply regret it. The government has wiped my record clean due to my assistance to the Incredibles, and I now offer my winter home as a headquarters for your crimefighting activities. Despite our differences, we have a common enemy--The Solon."

Bob Parr stood up, holding a sheet of paper. "Are there any comments before we proceed with our business?" he asked the combined heroes.

"I have a comment," said Honey. "Lucius and I are very happy to be with our son again."

As Edgar's parents embraced him, Bob glanced around the table for a few seconds, then started to read from the paper. "Our first order of business is to choose a name for our team," he announced. "Any suggestions?"

"How about the Super Sized Incredibles?" Dash chimed in.

"Or the Solon Busters," Violet added.

"The Unstoppables," Lucius proposed.

"The Justice Gods," Maggie contributed.

"The Unstoppables it is," Bob declared. "Our next order of business is to welcome Christina Hamilton as a member." Chris rose hesitantly. "Chris, also known as The Transfixer, has the ability to change gender at will, and immobilize anyone of the opposite sex who looks at her, or his, face."

"She's pretty good, too," Mirage chimed in. "When she turned into a boy, I literally couldn't take my eyes off him."

"Our next order of business," Bob continued, "is to review the current state of our knowledge about The Solon, and devise a strategy against him."

"My parents, Anna Konda and Impregnable Man, were supervillains in the employ of The Solon," Chris recounted. "They never met him. Nobody knew who he really was. Nobody quit working for him and lived--until the supervillain relocation program came along. I was born while my parents were in hiding. When they realized what I was, they tried to raise money to find a cure for my condition, so I could live normally without having to cover my face. When they couldn't find enough money through legal means, they returned to crime. By choosing to fight The Solon, I've permanently turned my back on them."

"The Solon is an expert in virtually every field of human knowledge," Edgar told the group. "He has studied every superhero and supervillain he knows of, and is familiar with their strengths and weaknesses. He funds many criminal activities and employs many supervillains. Some you've had experience with, like Cloud Cover, Plutonia, and the so-called Mr. Incred-Evil. He specializes in alchemy, and has collected the necessary elements to create a Philosopher's Stone, a device that can transmute matter. Its power is limitless--it can change one element into another, or even one person into another. I believe he used it to strip Mr. Incredible of his powers, and to transform one of his thugs into Mr. Incred-Evil. I have reason to believe that The Solon is none other than Calvin Turnmire, billionaire philanthropist."

"The man you went to jail for attacking," Helen observed.

"When I saw him reach for his camera, I thought he was reaching for the Stone," Edgar continued. "He was also present at the fight between Mr. Incredible and Plutonia. I believe his plan is to lure you into confrontations with his underlings, and use the Stone to rob you of your powers, one by one. However, since he never underestimates his opponents, the mere fact that I suspect him suggests that he has already changed his plans."

"Maggie, have you picked up any more vibrations about The Solon?" Helen asked her Hispanic friend.

"Nothing new," was the reply.

"I won't be much help against The Solon unless I can get my suit back from the police," said Edgar. "But I know how he thinks, and I can recommend strategy. I suggest you split into two teams--one to help Mr. Parr get his powers back, and one to investigate Turnmire. In a perfectly legal manner, of course."

"I can use my invisibility power to check out Turnmire," Violet volunteered.

"And I can run so fast, he won't see me," Dash added.

"We'll do it together," Helen told her children.

"I'll be part of the first team, naturally," said Bob.

"I know the way to the maximum security prison where supervillains are held," said Lucius.

"I will bring the Permutare charm to switch the bodies of Robert and the clone," said Maggie. "However, the spell requires great concentration, so someone will need to keep the clone under control."

"I can do that," Chris offered.

"Then we're agreed," Bob declared. "We will enact our plan tomorrow evening."

Unfortunately the plan hit a surprise snag, as Robert Parr awoke the next morning to a shocking headline in the local newspaper: MR. INCREDIBLE IS DEAD.

----

to be continued


	5. Back from the Dead

Bob, clad in his bathrobe at the dining table, stared in abject shock at the newspaper article while Helen, her hair wrapped in a towel, read over his broad shoulder.

"The reports of your death are greatly exaggerated, honey," she remarked.

Her husband could only mumble, "...cause of death unknown...pending autopsy..."

"If his skin is as tough as yours," Helen observed, "they'll have to use a laser cutter for the autopsy."

Bob slammed the paper down on the table with a force that would have normally slivered any piece of furniture. "So much for our plan," he moaned. "I can't switch bodies with a dead guy."

"What do we do now?" Helen wondered.

The doorbell rang, and she hurried to welcome the callers, half-hoping they would have a helpful suggestion or two. To her chagrin, Ike and Gloria Hamilton were standing on the mat, dressed in plain work clothes.

"I hope we didn't catch you at a bad time," said Gloria, sizing up the towel on Helen's head.

Ike glanced over at Bob and quipped, "You look healthy for a dead man."

"If you're looking for your daughter, she's not here," said Helen firmly. "She spent the night at a friend's place."

Gloria took a tentative step through the doorway, and Helen grudgingly allowed her inside. "That's not what we're here for," she stated. "We just wanted to say goodbye."

Seeing Helen's alarmed expression, Ike added, "No, not that kind of goodbye. We're leaving town. Permanently."

Curious, Bob rose to his feet. "This is so sudden. You're not afraid we'll reveal your identities, are you?"

"No," Ike replied, rather sheepishly. "We're afraid of The Solon."

Helen confronted the man indignantly. "Then help us fight him," she demanded. "That's what Chris is doing."

"You just don't get it," Gloria interjected. "Everyone who has gone up against The Solon has lost. It's suicide."

"If that's true," said Bob, "then you just sent your daughter to her death."

"At least she'll die for something she believes in," was Ike's response.

"She was unhappy with her life anyway," Gloria reflected sadly. "And maybe that's our fault. It's not easy to raise a girl who can turn into a boy at will."

"Take good care of her," Ike urged the Parrs. "And now, finally, we shall trouble you no more."

Helen closed the door slowly after the Hamiltons exited. "Don't worry," she said confidently to Bob. "They'll show up at the last minute and save our butts, possibly at the cost of their own lives. It happens in every movie."

She hoped so, at any rate. The departure of her supervillain neighbors would remove a bothersome thorn from her side--yet in another reality, she might have welcomed them as allies.

She turned away from the door, and noticed that Bob was dialing a number on the telephone. "Who are you calling?" she inquired.

"Maggie," her husband answered. "I have a new plan."

----

The bedroom was attractively decorated, with green paisley walls and an ornate full-length mirror. The queen-sized bed with down pillows would have been comfortable for anyone else, but Chris Hamilton slept awkwardly and with difficulty.

"Wakey-wakey," said Mirage in a sweet voice as she knocked on the closed door. Knowing that her new young charge would certainly desire privacy, she wandered to the kitchen of her palacial winter home, and started to prepare breakfast.

Chris appeared as she was cracking an egg onto a skillet. The girl's usually flowing blond hair was straggly, and she wore a corduroy robe. "Good morning," Mirage greeted her. "Did you rest well?"

"No," Chris replied in a drowsy voice. "I've never spent the whole night as a boy before. It was weird."

"Hungry?" Mirage asked.

"I could eat an elephant," said Chris eagerly. "If I were still a boy, I could eat two."

Shortly the two ladies sat down to a meal of sausage, eggs, and pancakes.

As she watched Mirage lather her pancakes with margarine, Chris remarked, "I'm surprised you can keep your figure."

"Keep it?" Mirage chuckled. "I'm trying to get rid of it."

After a few ravenous bites of sausage, Chris ventured a bold question. "Why are you helping us against The Solon? What's in it for you?"

The corners of Mirage's mouth dropped, as if she was embarrassed.

"I'm sorry," said Chris uncomfortably. "I shouldn't pry."

Mirage gazed seriously at the girl and took a deep breath. "All my life I've been surrounded by men," she began. "They all want the same thing. I've been propositioned three times this week alone--and they were men who knew they would see me again. Sometimes I have to beat them off with a stick, or worse, with my powers."

"You're lucky," Chris responded. "When men look at my face, they just stand there and do nothing."

"When they look at me," Mirage lamented. "all they see is a blond Barbie doll who used to be in pictures. But that's only part of what I am. I have a brain. Syndrome recognized that. While other men wanted a purely physical relationship, he desired one that was purely intellectual. It was going well, until that one fateful moment--that moment when Mr. Incredible held me in his arms, and threatened to crush me. It was then I realized that Syndrome had pulled things out of his nose that he valued more than my life, and that Mr. Incredible couldn't bring himself to hurt me, even when he thought everything he loved was gone." She sighed wistfully. "When I was a girl I told myself, if I ever found a man like that, I would follow him into the depths of Hell. Elastigirl is the luckiest woman in the world. She doesn't know how I feel about him. She wouldn't understand. For all she knows, I'm just a homewrecking bimbo."

Chris' breakfast lay untouched as she pondered the meaning of Mirage's story.

"Eat up," the blond woman instructed her. "We have a full day ahead of us. First we're going to Edna's to fit you for a replacement super suit, and then you'll register with the agency."

"Register?" Chris repeated. "With what agency?"

"All supers have to register with the Bureau of Super Affairs if they want official recognition," Mirage explained. "Unless you do, you're classified as a vigilante, and the police can arrest you for unauthorized crime-fighting."

"Are you registered?" Chris inquired.

"No," said Mirage, drumming her fingers together. "My powers can be dangerous. I use them only as a last resort. Besides, there are people on both sides of the law who think I'm one of them, and I don't want to lose that."

----

In the south end of Metroville stood a secret hospital disguised as an abandoned office building. The lowest floor housed the morgue, where a tall, muscular corpse lay on a cold metal slab. It wore a black mask and a suit of indestructible red fabric, and its blank face and unblinking eyes resembled the familiar features of the city's one-time champion, Mr. Incredible.

Two armed, uniformed agents with dark glasses guarded the morgue entrance against intruders. This was, after all, no ordinary hospital. Wounded and afflicted supers came here to be treated, and sometimes, unfortunately, to die.

"Sure is a shame what happened to Mr. I," remarked one of the guards, a man. "My kids idolize him. My boy dresses up like him every Halloween."

"He just flipped out, started smashing the city, and dropped dead," reflected the other guard, a woman. "Getting hit over the head with girders all the time will do that to you, I guess."

Both were oblivious to the strange mist that was, at that moment, creeping through the ventilation shaft above their heads. It poured through a grate in the morgue, hovered for a few seconds over the dead body of what was presumably Mr. Incredible, and retreated the way it came.

It was early afternoon. In the shadows of an alley near the hospital, the mist settled into a vague shape that was human enough to speak. "He's there," it hissed to a figure in a black robe and obscuring hood. "Two guards. Heavily armed."

"Surveillance devices?" asked the robed figure in an old man's tired voice.

"None I could see," replied the mist.

"Good work," said the robed man. "Now cover me."

He crept toward the hospital entrance, unseen due to the dense vapor that shrouded him. It appeared to the few bystanders who witnessed the scene that a cloud was rolling into the building. They imagined it was steam being released from an air conditioning system.

As the morgue guards were exchanging fond memories of Mr. Incredible's crusade for truth and justice, the hallway ahead of them became drenched in fog. A robed person stepped out from the haze, slowly becoming visible. The guards become anxious, sure that an unknown danger faced them.

"This is a restricted area," barked the female guard, reaching threateningly for her sidearm.

"I'll call for backup," offered the male guard.

The man in the robe wordlessly raised his arm, exposing a jade ring on his right hand. The guards unholstered their guns, but found that the odd glow from the ring was irresistibly attracting their attention.

"You will not harm me," the strange man uttered. Fascinated by the green ring, the two guards lost all thought regarding their responsibilities. They limply lowered their weapons as an urge to obey the bearer of the ring drove all conscious activity from their minds.

"You will answer my questions truthfully," the robed man commanded. "Has anyone other than the hospital staff had access to Mr. Incredible's body since it arrived?"

"No," replied the male guard.

"Has a cause of death been established?"

"No," answered the female guard. "The necessary equipment hasn't arrived yet."

"Very well," said the old man calmly. "Stand aside."

The mesmerized guards complied, and the man in the robe pushed his way into the morgue.

Maggie's temporary death spell was beginning to wear off, and Robert Parr had become slightly aware of his surroundings. Sight and sound were an incomprehensible blur, and the coldness of the slab on which his body lay was barely noticeable. Yet he sensed that someone was standing over him--someone with evil intent.

"You were a good man, Porter," a voice intoned, speaking words he didn't understand. "I'm sorry this had to happen to you. With a tool as powerful as the Philosopher's Stone, I'm bound to make a few greenhorn mistakes." A finger brushed against Bob's wrist almost imperceptibly. "But life and death are only states of matter. By the power of the Stone, you shall live again."

A weird tingling filled his body, starting in his chest and spreading to his head and toes. Warmth trickled into his limbs and digits. Light seared his half-frozen pupils. "Oxygen deprivation may have robbed you of much of your personality," the voice continued, now somewhat more intelligible. "I will preserve what remains, and supplement it with a rudimentary intelligence that responds to my commands."

It was like coming out of a nap completely refreshed. Robert Parr was alive again. He had all of his lucidity, and his original powers. He knew what to do, and how to do it.

Snapping his hand upward, he seized the translucent stone from the grip of the hooded man who stood over him. He effortlessly crushed and ground it in his palm while sitting up and grabbing the stranger by the collar of his robe.

He was now standing, towering over the mysterious old man, whose feet were elevated more than a foot above ground. The sensations in his body proclaimed unanimously that he had been perfectly restored to his super state. While allowing the powder that had once been the Philosopher's Stone to drift through his fingers onto the tiled floor of the morgue, he probed the man's half-covered face with his fully functioning eyes. A white beard was evident--was it the beard of Calvin Turnmire, billionaire philanthropist, as Edgar Best suspected?

"The Solon, I presume," he said triumphantly, wiggling the helpless man so that his feet swept back and forth.

"Release me," the robed man commanded.

Bob spontaneously let go of the man's collar, and The Solon dropped to the floor, spryly maintaining his footing.

Figuring he had experienced an involuntary reflexive action, Mr. Incredible lunged forward, trying to wrap his hands around the robed villain. "Stop," ordered the Solon.

Bob's muscles slammed to a halt. He slowly straightened up. His arms fell to his sides like weights.

He didn't comprehend what was happening. His body had never disobeyed his brain's imperatives before. Try as he might, he couldn't will himself to move against The Solon, or to move at all.

"Positively brilliant," the old man commended him. "You replaced Porter's body with your own, and used some sort of incantation to make yourself look dead. Even I didn't see it coming."

Although Mr. Incredible lacked the power to budge from his statuesque pose, he was still able to talk. "What's wrong with me?" he demanded.

"Silence," barked The Solon. "You will not speak unless I command it."

Bob tried to retort, but now his lungs, vocal cords, and lips were betraying him. He felt helpless as a puppet.

"When I brought you back to life, I planted a new personality in your brain," the evil mastermind informed him. "A personality that responds to simple commands. My commands. You are my slave, and your first task shall be to destroy all the supers in Metroville."

Horror and despair welled up in Bob's heart. He struggled to throw off the foreign will that had invaded his mind, but his determination was only subverted into a lust for killing supers. His very thoughts had finally turned against him, rendering him only vaguely aware that he had a problem.

"Do you understand your orders?" The Solon asked him.

"Yes," Mr. Incredible choked out. "Destroy...all supers...in Metroville."

"Then go forth, and destroy."

At the sound of these words, the mighty Mr. Incredible leaped into action, bursting out of the morgue, speeding past the dazed guards and through the cloud that filled the hallway.

As he rushed through the glass doors of the office building, he was compelled to think about which super to start with. Helen and the children, being the nearest and dearest to his heart, naturally entered his mind first, so they were the obvious choice. Helen was at home with Jack-Jack. The children were...

"Wait," called out a voice at the back of his mind. "There are supers in the city I don't know about. To destroy them all, I need a list. The only place where I can get a list is the Bureau of Super Affairs. It's a bit out of the way, but that may give me enough time to fight this...no, mustn't fight...must obey..."

The interrupted thought was enough to change his direction, and he raced down the street toward the center of town, where the Bureau offices were located.

In one of those offices, Chris Hamilton was turning in her super registration forms to a Bureau employee, a young woman with curly black hair whose nameplate read "Sally Cohen". Mirage stood near the window, grinning proudly at her young friend. About a dozen people stood impatiently in a queue behind them.

"It says here," reported Sally as she examined a computer readout, "that The Transfixer is a known supervillain."

"Er, yes, that's right," acknowledged Chris, who had once again parted her hair to blanket half of her face.

"I'll have to send you to another office," said Sally, punching some buttons on her phone. "Hold on."

While Chris and Mirage were holding on, they heard a tremendous crushing sound. Splintered wood and shattered drywall flew across the large room, striking some Bureau patrons and eliciting terrified screams from others.

Mr. Incredible had entered the office through a brand new hole in the wall. He wore a dazed expression that showed evidence of internal conflict.

"I want a list of all the supers in Metroville," he bellowed, marching toward the registration counter while frightened patrons fled from his path.

"We, uh, can't give out that information," Sally croaked nervously.

"The real Mr. Incredible wouldn't behave like that," observed Mirage, who had pulled Chris aside. "He must be another phony."

"Let me handle him," Chris offered. Drawing aside her parted hair, she called out, "Hey, Mr. Incredible! Over here!"

The mind-scrambled man of muscle turned his angry glare away from Sally, and looked straight into the stupefying visage of The Transfixer. His face softened, and his jaw fell open. A faint voice in his head exulted, "Yes! Yes!"

Mirage, trying to be helpful, stepped between Chris and Mr. Incredible, and waved her fingers in front of the immobile superhero's eyes. "Out like a light," she joked upon seeing that there was no response.

"Mirage, get out of the way!" Chris shrieked.

It was too late--Mirage had clumsily placed herself in Mr. Incredible's line of sight, blocking The Transfixer from his view. Overpowered by an urge to destroy the super who had treated him to a horrifying illusion, Robert Parr seized Mirage by the throat and lifted her a foot and a half from the floor. Chris stifled a scream.

"This time," snarled Mr. Incredible while the blond woman gagged and wheezed in his hand, "I really will crush you."

----

to be continued


	6. Mr Incredible vs Zerox

Only a handful of people, administrative assistant Sally Cohen among them, dared remain in the registration office to witness the grim scene transpiring between Mr. Incredible and Mirage. The mind-controlled superhero was clutching the blond woman's throat in one hand, levitating her above the floor. Mirage watched reality blur and fade as his strong fingers stifled the blood flow to her brain. Chris, ironically, stood transfixed; she knew that by the time she managed to stop Mr. Incredible with her face again, he would snap Mirage's neck like a toothpick. Nothing could be done.

So why was a slender young man with tussled dark hair creeping toward Mr. Incredible from behind?

As the man of muscle tightened his grip on Mirage's throat, he felt a slight tapping on his shoulder. No sooner had he curiously turned his head, than a small fist slammed into his rock-solid chin. He hadn't expected such a blow to even sting him, yet now he was flying across the room, and Mirage was a crumpled, but free, heap on the floor.

Chris couldn't believe it--a boy in a T-shirt and baggy jeans had just sent the mighty Mr. Incredible crashing into a wall.

"H-how did you..." she stammered, quickly pulling a veil of blond hair over her face to avoid stupefying the young man.

"I call myself Zerox," the youth replied quietly but confidently. "I can copy the powers of any super I touch."

Chris grinned bashfully. The boy wasn't especially well-built, but his rugged handsomeness more than compensated for his lack of muscle.

"You're awfully cute," he remarked just before Mr. Incredible's fist connected with his jaw, hurling him backwards through the opposite wall.

While he lay stunned, Sally took advantage of the lull in activity to slip out of the registration office, leaving Chris and Mirage alone with the battling titans. Zerox leaped powerfully to his feet and started to bludgeon Mr. Incredible's chest, while Chris dragged the semi-conscious Mirage to a safe distance.

The very foundations of the BSA building seemed to tremble as Mr. Incredible and Zerox slugged each other, and it was becoming clear to Chris that the smaller boy would lose. Desperate to assist him, she hurried away from Mirage and placed herself behind his back, hoping to charm Mr. Incredible into immobility. She couldn't have picked a worse time.

An unguarded punch struck Zerox in the solar plexus, throwing him against Chris with great force. She felt as if someone had tossed an aircraft carrier at her in hopes that she would catch it, and then she felt nothing.

Mirage, still reeling from Mr. Incredible's attempt to strangle her, managed to lift her aching head from the floor. A dire situation presented itself to her eyes. Chris lay sprawled and motionless, her head having collided with the wall. Zerox, his face bruised, his breath labored, crouched in front of her helpless body. Mr. Incredible was strolling toward him, repeatedly pounding a fist into his palm; he seemed little the worse for wear.

Noticing that Mirage was alert, Zerox quickly brushed his fingers over Chris' unresponsive cheek and bounded over to where the blond woman lay. "I've got her powers," he said urgently. "What do I do?" He had, apparently, given up on fighting brute strength with brute strength.

"Turn into a girl," Mirage instructed him.

"WHAT?!"

"Now!"

Zerox heard heavy footsteps approaching; he knew death was only seconds away. He had no other choice.

The change was triggered instinctively. By the time he had risen to his feet and turned to confront the furious superhero, he had become a she.

From Mirage's perspective, girl Zerox wasn't much different from boy Zerox, other than being a few inches shorter, and somewhat curvier. From Zerox's perspective, (s)he was experiencing something truly bizarre and frightening.

"Omigosh...this is so weird..." she mumbled, caring little that Mr. Incredible had frozen in his tracks and taken on a slackjawed expression.

"Don't let him out of your sight," said Mirage, struggling dizzily to her feet. Once she had wobbled a bit and grown sure of her footing, she shuffled toward the spot where Chris had fallen.

"Oh...my...God!" she heard Zerox blurt out.

"And don't look down your shirt, either," said Mirage with a peevish sigh.

She knelt and laid her ear over Chris' mouth, their strands of blond hair mixing. The girl was breathing--a very good sign.

"How long do I have to stay like this?" came Zerox's nervous female voice. "I can only copy her powers for a few minutes, and then I have to touch her again. And I can't copy Mr. Incredible's powers at the same time, otherwise I'd just knock him out."

"The police will show up any time now," Mirage assured her.

"Omigod," Zerox ranted. "What if something goes wrong? What if I can't change back into a guy? What if I'm stuck as a girl?"

"Then this is your lucky day," Mirage quipped.

Zerox's fears proved unfounded, as a half-dozen police officers appeared within two minutes, bearing reinforced steel shackles with which they bound the unresisting Mr. Incredible. Zerox effortlessly resumed male form, and watched with relief as paramedics laid Chris Hamilton on a stretcher, placed a cloth over her eyes and forehead, and ported her out of the office.

"This is, like, the weirdest day of my life," he remarked to Mirage. "First I got beat up by Mr. Incredible, then I turned into a girl. I suppose I'll be abducted by aliens as soon as I walk out of here."

Mr. Incredible sat impotently on the floor, glaring silently but menacingly at the police officers who surrounded him, unbreakable metal shackles confining his hands and feet.

"A transport will arrive to take him away in a few minutes," a policeman told Zerox and Mirage.

"This will be bad for superhero rights," remarked a policewoman, shaking her head. "Very bad."

A lightbulb appeared above Mirage's oval-shaped head. "Maybe I can get some answers from him before you lock him up," she suggested.

"How?" inquired the policeman. "Is it some super trick?"

"Precisely," said Mirage. "My powers of illusion are based on mental suggestions. If I suggest that you see something terrifying, or pleasant, that's what you'll see. The exact details depend on what you consider to be most terrifying, or most pleasant." She stepped in front of the trapped Mr. Incredible and extended her stiletto-like fingers. "Don't be surprised by anything you see," she warned the others.

She began to concentrate, and was suddenly transfigured before the eyes of all present. To Zerox she resembled a paunchy, middle-aged man, the supervisor at a hotel where he worked during the summer. To the officers she appeared as a uniformed police sergeant. To Mr. Incredible, she assumed the robed and hooded form of The Solon.

"Oh, man, it's my boss," Zerox groaned.

Mirage spoke slowly but sternly to Mr. Incredible. "Who am I?" she demanded. "Who do you see before you?"

"You're The Solon," the superhero replied innocently.

"What do I look like?" Mirage asked him.

"You're an old man in a black robe and hood. I can't see all of your face, but I can tell you have a beard."

Mirage grinned with satisfaction. "Why do you want a list of all the supers in Metroville?" was her next question.

"So I can destroy them, like you told me to," said Mr. Incredible matter-of-factly.

"Hmm," Mirage mused. Her arms remained level, her nails pointed at the large man's face. "What is your name?"

"I'm Robert Parr, also known as Mr. Incredible."

"I don't think so," Mirage retorted. "Mr. Incredible would never take orders from The Sol...er, from me. One more time--what is your name?"

"I'm Robert Parr, also known as Mr. Incredible. You did something to my brain when you brought me out of the death spell, and now I have to do everything you say."

Mirage shot Zerox a concerned glance. After a moment's thought, she continued her dialogue with Mr. Incredible.

"I release you from my power," she declared. "You need no longer obey my commands. You are free."

A brief, blank stare formed on Mr. Incredible's face, followed by confusion, and finally, joy.

"I'm free," he exulted. What appeared to be The Solon collapsed into a slender, attractive form before his eyes. "The urge to kill is gone. How'd you do it, Mirage?"

"Simple," the blond woman replied. "In concept, anyway. I put a suggestion in your mind that when you look at me, you see the person you work for."

"Interesting," said Mr. Incredible, who then adopted a somber tone. "My God, Mirage, if you and your new friend hadn't stopped me, I might have killed Helen, and the children, and who knows how many other supers. I wasn't strong enough to fight The Solon's conditioning."

Two more police officers stepped into the office through the hole in the wall. "The transport's here," one of them announced. "Get him ready."

Robert Parr looked at Mirage through sad eyes. "I guess I have to go to prison now," he lamented. "Give my love to Helen and the kids."

"I will," said Mirage with a bitter smile.

"And let me know if Chris is all right," Mr. Incredible requested as the officers exerted themselves to raise his body.

----

Dr. Levy, a stout blond woman in her thirties, returned from break to find a male surgeon staring vapidly at the expressionless face of Chris Hamilton. The girl lay rigidly on a bed in the secret hospital for superheroes, her brain activity monitored by electrodes fastened to her temples.

The doctor quickly laid her hand over the man's eyes, and he snapped out of his reverie. "Huh? What?" he blurted out.

"Forget it, Carter," said Dr. Levy half-jokingly. "No man's virtuous enough to withstand The Transfixer."

"I'm sorry, Amanda," replied the surgeon as he jerked his line of sight away from Chris. "That was very unprofessional of me."

Dr. Levy glanced at the readout on the monitor, looked down at the stricken girl, and sighed plaintively. "Even in a coma," she remarked, "she's still the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

----

Don't miss the exciting sequel, _Liberty and Justice!_


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